


Remember

by MiriamKenneath



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/F, Gentleness, Memories, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-31 17:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17853686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/pseuds/MiriamKenneath
Summary: ‘I want you to know that I recognise you. I remember you, lost little girl,’ Mon said. The words seemed to originate, not from Mon herself, but from somewhere beyond the two of them, from somewhere deeply buried and hidden.Somewhere Jyn had chosen to hide from herself.Now, though, Jyn allowed herself to remember too.





	Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



‘Please step into my office, Jyn. I would speak with you for a moment in private.’

Mon Mothma’s white robes swirled lightly as she turned and headed in the direction of what appeared to be an unobtrusive alcove. She did not bother looking back to check to see if Jyn was following her; she simply expected that Jyn would follow her. Well then. Clearly this woman was the consummate politician. Such quiet poise, such confidence – and this despite being a fugitive from justice with an Imperial bounty on her head. Quite the feat, that was, all things considered.

Her office was, as it turned out, hardly more comfortable than the strategy room they’d just left behind. It too was cramped, dark and humid, smelling of rot and crumbling rock, with just enough space for two chairs, a desk equipped with an inset datapad and holoemulator and a narrow cot tucked into the corner furthest from the entrance. Both the desk and the cot were neatly kept, but both had clearly seen heavy use.

Mon gestured for Jyn to take a seat. As Jyn obeyed, Mon took the other. They sat, face to face, silently scrutinising, so close that their knees practically touched.

 _She’s been on the run for several standard years, and she’s been hiding…_ here _?_ Jyn thought. Suddenly Jyn was feeling a lot more sympathetic toward Mon. She knew what it was like to live in hiding. And come to think of it, if one looked past those perfectly tailored robes, the ceremonial chains of the public servant, the carefully coifed ginger hair, she was definitely thinner, her face more lined, more haggard, than it had been when…back when…

‘I want you to know that I recognise you. I remember you, lost little girl,’ Mon said. The words seemed to originate, not from Mon herself, but from somewhere beyond the two of them, from somewhere deeply buried and hidden.

Somewhere Jyn had chosen to hide from herself.

Now, though, Jyn allowed herself to remember too.

 

A charity function on Worsev, a remote but beautiful, resource-rich planet on the Outer Rim. The Coruscanti elite would be gathering there for a full standard week of refined wining, dining and dancing. Ostensibly the event was being held in order to raise money for victims of the Tillann neuro-chemical plant disaster. Realistically, however, most of the celebrities, plutocrats, military personnel and politicians were there to socialise and be seen.

For Saw Gerrera and his Partisans, it was the perfect place to make a point. They’d infiltrated the function and placed remote thermal detonators in the most heavily-trafficked areas. The thermal detonators were all synchronised to blow at the same time for maximum impact. Some would die; many more would be maimed or seriously injured.

‘They shall suffer for the greater good of our cause. They’re none of them innocent, anyway,’ Saw had said.

Jyn was accompanying the operation as a learner. She was only twelve years old and small for her age.

No one noticed one extra little human girl ducking and weaving through the milling crowds, but Jyn was taking careful note of them. She saw cruelty, self-righteousness and self-absorption on many of the faces, and many of those faces she recalled from the holonet…or from Saw’s many tales of their many misdeeds. They were all one big blur to Jyn; she did not mourn any of them.

Only one of these glittering beings stood out, instantly recognisable: Mon Mothma, the Senator from Chandrila and one of the most well-known, vocal critics of Imperial overreach and excess. Jyn had heard about her valiant opposition of the then Supreme Chancellor Palpatine during the Clone Wars. This woman had _lived_. This woman was a galaxy apart from the people who surrounded her, a shining pillar of virtue amidst a cesspool of excess with chains around her neck symbolising her servitude – meaning she served her people and her people did not serve her –

And she was about to die. She was mere minutes from near certain death, in fact.

In an instant, Jyn had made her decision.

She crept up behind Mon, grabbed her hand and tugged urgently. ‘Ma’am, please! Please, ma’am, can you help me? I’m lost,’ Jyn whinged and pretended to sniffle, ‘and I can’t find my father…’

Mon turned to look at Jyn. Her expression was compassionate and concerned. She was of an age with Jyn’s mother, Jyn realised, or would have been if – well. She had some maternal instincts in any event, it seemed, and although her grip on Jyn’s hand firmed, her fingers were knowingly gentle, her skin soft and warm. Mon was really pretty up close like this, actually; Jyn felt her insides flutter with excitement of a sort that wasn’t a child’s…

‘Oh dear,’ Mon said, oblivious to Jyn’s new self-understanding. ‘Of course I’ll help. Let’s go talk to planetary security. I’m sure they can make an announcement – ’

Jyn put aside her unruly emotions and pretended not to hear what Mon had said about the local planetary security. Time to be practical. They needed to get away from the detonators _now_. She started moving toward an out of the way area that wasn’t currently being used for the charity function, using her body weight to drag Mon along with her. ‘I, er, I think maybe he went that way…?’

‘Oh, ah, but I don’t see why your father would – ’

_BOOM._

The blast was deafening and knocked them both hard down to the floor, but they were just far enough outside the blast range not to have been seriously injured. Jyn was back onto her feet in an instant. She lingered only long enough to make certain that Mon was all right, which she was. Then she disappeared into the smoke and the confusion.

 

‘I…I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking abou – ’

‘I remember you, lost little girl,’ Mon repeated. And then, to underscore her point: ‘I remember you, Jyn Erso. Thank you.’

Jyn held Mon’s gaze. She did not try to deny it again. Mon reached out, placed a hand – the same hand Jyn had once taken into hers – against the back of Jyn’s neck and brought their faces together. Mon pressed a gentle kiss to Jyn’s cheek. She was even older now, a ripe middle age. Yet her lips were soft, and her skin smelled sweet, like the rhil flowers of summertime. And she was still so beautiful.

‘I’m not a little girl anymore,’ Jyn said as she pulled Mon into a second, and rather less chaste kiss, on the lips.  _Ah, lovely_ , Jyn thought. _She tastes as sweet as she smells_.

‘No, I know you’re not,’ Mon replied after they’d come up for air. ‘But you _are_ still lost. Find your father. Find yourself,’ she paused, ‘and – return to me.’

They would go no further until Jyn had returned, and they made each other no promises that day. Promises, however, would not be necessary. They didn’t need to speak aloud the words which were already enshrined within their hearts.

They would remember. That was enough.


End file.
